Idiosyncrasies
by mjoelk
Summary: "There's no need to worry about that. They knew nothing about me except as a girl." From her strange childhood into her dull marriage, Elizaveta Héderváry certainly had an odd life, filled with a wide range twists and turns.


_Well, I made another thing again. This time, it's entirely different from the pairing I've begun writing with. So it's an AusHun pairing. I've read some with this pairing as well, since they're one of my favourite pairings because even in history the two countries had a personal union. But it's not the usual love-hate kind, more like Roderich realising how much he had hurt Elizaveta and trying to redeem himself._

_How do I come up with just one-word titles? I guess I'm just that lazy as a guy. I don't know if this one is any better than "Obscurity". I added more dialogue and character setting. I'm not sure if I've seen stories giving a hypothetic backstory as to how Elizaveta grew up. I know she had a tomboyish attitude, which somehow waned a little when she started living with Roderich. I've decided to use the Hetalia's Japanese fandom's name for Hungary's male counterpart as Daniel, so I thought I'd put it out there to reduce confusion. Lukas would be a good one, since it's a common Hungarian name for guys._

_Now, for pairings, there's only three: PruHun (Elizaveta's childhood friendship with Gilbert, when she was still a boy - I always consider this pairing as mere best friends), ItaHun (motherly-like relationship, okay?), and finally AusHun (to begin with, even in history their relationship wasn't that good)._

_I added a little bit of Feliciano's origin of having to wear a girl's clothing. We know Roderich saw Feliciano as a girl; even this was shown in the "Chibitalia" segments in the series itself. Elizaveta kept shut about it, but she reveals it to him in secret._

_It's set a few years before "Obscurity" (assuming the characters take a long time to age), but this isn't a prequel or a sequel and certainly not a spin-off. More like a separate story itself. Again, it's an AU, set sometime after the Dual Monarchy of Austria-Hungary was formed._

_As always, please review, fave, send me a PM saying hi, whatever. It makes me feel motivated to write more stories, even if I have to add some history on it. And since I added more things in it, it's longer..so good luck reading through nearly 5200 words. Just 100 words more than my previous story. Unlike last time, the rating K+ because no yaoi, but slight reference to it, so yeah._

* * *

By the time Erzébet Héderváry reached thirteen, her life had entirely changed. Born to well-respected, lower nobility in Budapest, she was often reflected as a young woman with a manner of her brash father and her obstinate, yet beautiful, mother. Thus her disposition was a step close to the periphery of a soldier, newly recruited to join a regiment. And since the family she bore was deeply esteemed in both the lower class (by using a certain amount of the family's wealth to provide the poor, done in secret to protect the poor from being persecuted by the rich - in return they would keep quiet about who was providing them the money) and higher class respectively (because the father was indeed an opinionated man - clearly outspoken against the Monarchy of treating their own people), the Hédervárys were recognised throughout Europe. Despite of all her past life as a child, being taught about how to deal with society that constantly changes its direction, how she grew up was rather strange even to those born of a very eccentric family.

* * *

Her parents first saw their only child as the next heir, named Daniel. They hoped to bring their son pride once he was old enough by sending him to the army during his fourteenth year. Thus at three years of age, he was taught all of geography, military history, mathematics, all the sciences, languages (Polish, Russian, and German - in which he could speak them fluently), fencing (in which his father had a long history of fencing within the family and hoped to pass it to his son), and, to a very small extent (obviously done in secret between father and son), how to spot a young woman from afar and impress her with the charms a man could offer. At the same time, his mother taught him how to act toward women; similar to how his father had taught him women in a rather less gentle manner, this was the opposite.

All the life lessons followed young Héderváry until he turned ten.

One morning, as his mother entered the room, young Daniel was still sleeping. Although their family lived in less luxury, they prefer not have servants around the house; unlike most rich families, each person take care of one's selves rather than have someone take care of them. But as his mother slowly undressed him for the day's clothes, what she found out astonished everyone.

Even the son was shocked to find out.

It turns out Daniel wasn't born a boy.

To begin with, the baby was a _girl_ the whole time. Under mysterious circumstances, the child was mistaken with the wrong gender.

It was a great shock, yet at the same time a blessing.

Any family friend of the Hédervárys knew nothing about the young man, though their closest friend the Beilschmidts knew little of their misidentified son. Each time the family would invite their friends to hold a small soirée, Daniel would be sent out of the house an hour before the visitor's arrival. Until Daniel turned twelve, he lived his life as a recluse; the only person he would talk to was his best friend Gilbert, whom he had known since childhood and often had fencing with whenever the young man's family are invited in Budapest. He was the only person he could tell anything he wanted to talk about and never feel judged by what he would say. Instead, they would simply laugh it off.

After finding out about this news, the Beilschmidts recognised it as an accident, adding that they were the only family whom the Hédervárys knew as a reminder. It would trigger outrage should the secret spread throughout Europe, they warned. As for Gilbert, he felt nothing but humiliation; being defeated by a young woman a year older than him, in a sport in which both of them are closely matched. As Daniel turned twelve, it was the very last year he would be treated as a gentleman. He and his parents decided to teach him everything a young lady must know once he turned thirteen. Most of all, it was the very last time he would see his best friend.

Spending the entire day at Beilschmidts' Estate in Berlin, everyone said each other's small goodbyes before the end of the day. For the two close friends, they spent their day in silence. They didn't fence like they would each time either family invites one another, neither felt moved to duel when their life is about to change once both of them turned thirteen (Gilbert and Daniel were born five months apart in the same year they were born.)

"Why?" Gilbert asked him. He and Daniel are sitting inside the Beilschmidts' grand family library, where they spent morning and afternoon reading nothing but books. "Would you start acting like a woman by the time you're thirteen?"

"It's not just lectures of being a lady that's going to happen," Daniel replied, looking up from the book he was reading. His expression was glum when he glanced at Gilbert. "I won't see you anymore. We won't even talk to each other or have a fencing match at all like we used to; no more fun and games, we both know it's too early for the fun to end." Then he looked at him and his green eyes began to water with tears. "I'm already betrothed to someone."

Silence.

Gilbert froze. "But how?" He asked, sounding furious. He stood up and began pacing back and forth in the library. "When did you find out?"

"Eavesdropped my parents this morning, before we left."

"Who will you marry? Do you even know?"

_It certainly wasn't Gilbert…_

"The Edelsteins' son, Roderich."

_Instead an aristocrat…_

Gilbert clenched his fists at the name. "Him?" He repeated. "That fool I seldom get along?"

"Yes. And I know him, too. My parents knew them because at some point they helped them with something. I don't know how or what happened, but whatever it was, it gave them my parents' reverence. But because of how they regarded my family at first, my father loathed them. I've never met their son personally, but I've heard he's a little egotistical."

"My father _despised_ the Edelsteins." Gilbert looked up at him. "But your guess about their son was dead on. He's arrogant to the point of being too traditionalist. Do they know about who you are?" He asked. "If they find out you were a boy, they'll tell everyone and cause trouble. People like him tend to be tattletales. Beware of them when you must."

Daniel shook his head. "There's no need to worry about that," he replied. "They knew nothing about me except as a girl." He smiled, hoping to comfort Gilbert. "But yes, I'll remember that fact. Since I'll wed someone deeply known throughout society, I'll keep it in mind."

_Sometimes having at one least person you've known throughout childhood can be the best mentor…_

"What will your parents name you once you're a woman?"

"Since my mother decided what name should I be named if I were a girl, I would be named Elizaveta."

"Elizaveta, huh? It does match you well."

"I couldn't be sure about that. However, don't ever call me Daniel again after today."

_I'm Elizaveta Héderváry now…_

* * *

After a year of rigorous lessons in training their daughter Elizaveta, including her engagement to the Edelsteins' only son, the Hédervárys no longer thought of her as their son, but as their daughter. All the clothes she had worn as a boy were given to the Beilschmidts. While under his male name, Gilbert had told Elizaveta about having a brother in his family as far as overhearing his father about it (despite it being only a wish for now). The day after she turned thirteen, her parents began purchasing her all the needs a woman must have. By fifteen, just two years into her new identity, Elizaveta finally met her husband-to-be, a month her junior and about the same age as Gilbert, who was only a year her senior. According to her fiancée's parents, Roderich Edelstein was a child prodigy in music, as he began playing the piano at four and the violin at five. He spoke nearly all the European languages, including Russian; had very close ties to the monarchy; and flair of treating women with care. From how Elizaveta had viewed him in terms of personality, Roderich Edelstein is the polar opposite of Gilbert Beilschmidt.

While Gilbert spoke half the number of languages spoken throughout Europe and had a less strict standard in dealing with women, his family had a love-hate relationship towards the monarchy; whereas Roderich follows all the rules society deems it worthy.

_A bitter rivalry indeed…_

Four years later, she tied the knot with the young aristocrat. A minute into their new life as a couple, Elizaveta already predicted their marriage wouldn't last very long. Instead of a joyuous one, it was horridly dull, if not felt like trapped in a cage. The only thing keeping her hopes up was her family name, in which she decided to retain rather than accepting her husband's family name; however, as custom dictates, she would still be referred by society as "Frau Edelstein". She didn't mind calling her using such a title; only it didn't fit her at all.

Rather than being thought of as a wife, Elizaveta was seen as a housemaid. Deep down, she never felt as if this was what she deserved. From a child whose family was considered secondary by those superior to hers, she couldn't help but feel somewhat disgusted to her own spouse. She knew the Beilschmidts were just as wealthy as the Edelsteins, but in terms of how they view those below their prestige, they contrast one another.

Coming from someone whom society recognised because of his family's ties to the monarchy and his status as a respected musical prodigy (in which "Mozart would've taken as his apprentice just by how he plays music" one would say), he was harsh and cold towards her.

_She's not an aristocrat…_

Elizaveta knew it the morning after her marriage ever since.

* * *

Now at twenty-three, Elizaveta had seen nothing but an endless cycle of routines in her monotonous life.

Upon waking up and being dressed by herself (nothing close to a noblewoman's attire, but similar to a servant maid's outfit – a green dress, white apron with a ruffled hem, and small red bow tied around the collar) in a small, separate bedroom, the young woman strolled around the huge estate, as she usually would do each day. Instead of sleeping beside her husband, she slept alone. Along the way she saw the little child she and her husband took in two years ago, after a family friend of the Edelsteins, the Vargas family, had suddenly passed away.

Like the Edelsteins, the Beilschmidts, and the Hédervárys, the Vargas family were also a well-respected family. Well known for their talent of fine arts, the family didn't mind giving up their work of art to their family friends in order to use the money they earned to those who need it. Similar to Elizaveta's parents, they spent a large portion of their money for generosity, which were done in secret with the same motive of protecting the poor from living in the streets. And because the northern half of Italy was recently united to its southern half, the country itself was young and inexperienced into their new government. However, before the Italians were finally free from the Monarchy's authority, Italy did not exist as one country. This meant the Edelsteins held some control over the Italian families living at the northern half, including the Vargas family. Once the Italians began fighting for their independence, the eldest child was born and the second child was born three years later.

Since the Vargas was also taken care of by the Edelsteins (the same way Elizaveta's family were cared for), both their sons were placed on agreement to another family, should the boys' biological parents pass away. And although everyone within the house (except the master himself) had no idea either child has a brother, no one knew the other's fate. It was believed that the two siblings were separated under their parent's dying will…that another family would take them in, oblivious of each other's existence.

* * *

The child's name, surprisingly enough, was Feliciano Vargas. He was only three when he and his older brother were estranged to one another and, now at five years old, still oblivious he had one. His only close friend is Elizaveta, the person who had been taking care of him since Roderich took him in, yet was placed under Elizaveta's obligation since. She was the only one who knew what happened to his parents, as well as the fact that he had an older sibling.

Five years had passed since Elizaveta began living at the Edelstein Estate, now occupied only by her husband, her, as well as the servants. The master's parents both passed on with old age and wounds in the war, respectively. Because she was told not to disturb Roderich during the day, the young Hungarian had all the time to know where the rooms are and how to get there, memorised them, and made sure to remember. One late evening, she had to rescue her husband, who apparently had no sense of direction, from the labyrinthine corridors. Thus, besides holding concern for Feliciano, she had to make sure her own husband makes it to his bedroom.

* * *

"Good morning, Feli," she called out in Hungarian, calling the boy with the diminutive of his real name as she watched Feli wiping the floor with water using a dirty rag and a large bucket filled with water. Because Elizaveta is held liable for him, she had taught him not only the two languages spoken around the house, German and Hungarian, but also the Feliciano's mother tongue, Italian. And, feeling as if he would grow up to be a skilled fencer like her someday (though she already abandoned the sport since her marriage), she secretly taught him fencing for nearly a year; she knew the risks of being caught teaching the child with a weapon, but it didn't matter to her – she was already proud of how much progress the young boy had been making. Most of all, afraid that she would question her spouse's decision to see the child as a girl, she decided to keep the boy's actual identity a secret for the time being. Until he was old enough, Feliciano was dressed under a maid's attire, called a helpless "daughter", and treated as a servant.

…

During her first year of living in the house as a married wife, Elizaveta was put under further duties on another adopted child, who was a small youngster named Ludwig. He was older than Feliciano, about two years apart from one another. With blonde hair and blue eyes, Ludwig was indeed adorable, when Elizaveta first met the boy. From what she noticed a few days after taking in the child, Ludwig had very good terms with Roderich, since he was taken in before Feliciano was; whatever those good relations were, she never knew. And already mindful of Feliciano's true gender, hidden beneath a servant girl's clothing, she couldn't help but smile whenever the little blonde boy would try to talk to Feliciano. It often ends up with Feliciano or Ludwig running away from the other, usually from embarrassment. One mishap occurred when Ludwig had accidentally lifted up Feli's skirt, while he was sweeping the floor – Feliciano told her about it. This continued for the next year and a half, in which Ludwig (who was already ten, and already a growing young man) had decided to leave the house in order to be on his own. It wasn't because Elizaveta failed in taking care of him as he grew up; in fact, she took duty for both Ludwig _and_ Feliciano with the equivalent affection a mother would have for her child…even if she would let this awkward relationship between the two boys last for a long time.

_It was because he couldn't help but run away from the fact that he had fallen in love with the little servant girl…_

_By running away, he hoped he would forget about it._

Upon knowing this, Feliciano managed to say his final goodbye to the young boy. Elizaveta didn't know what happened between the two, but she knew Feliciano would always look outside to see if the young man returned, hoping to reunite with him one day.

_It never happened…_

…

Seeing her, the little Italian turned around and, dropping the rug, ran towards her. His arms were outstretched as he approached her. "Good morning, Miss Elizaveta," he replied back, winding his short arms around her. Although Elizaveta was seen as a motherly figure to him, she preferred calling him by her name. It was obvious why, since both of them were servants themselves.

"How are you today?" she asked him. As for Elizaveta, she would still call Feliciano a girl, yet she saw him as a boy.

_If Roderich ever finds out Feli was a boy this whole time…I can't imagine how he would react…_

_To him, a young boy wearing something all girls would wear seems not only unusual…_

_It was decadent. Immoral would be a better term._

"I have to clean the house." This was always the reply she would hear from the youngster. Rather than treat him as a son, he was reduced into doing impossible chores, from cleaning the grand artworks hung throughout the house to washing the laundry. Of course, Elizaveta would always be by his side, not helping but smile to one another as they completed the countless tasks given each day.

"Let me help you, then," replied Elizaveta. They walked back where Feliciano had left the water bucket and, taking out her own rug from her apron pocket, began wiping the floor. "Afterwards, I can show you something."

"What is it?" Feliciano's inquisitive eyes shone with excitement, as he stooped down beside her and cleaned the floor.

"You know that room somewhere in the house. The one that's always locked?"

"I found it open today. Maybe the master forgot to lock like he always would."

"Then let's go finish these chores and go find that room. He shouldn't be bothered at all today."

However, as she cleaned the house along with the boy, Elizaveta saw something odd about him. But before she could shut out her thoughts, she was caught staring intently at the little boy.

_This boy certainly had the hardest childhood I could ever imagine_ she thought. _He was born in Venice to a family everyone in Europe knew. Just before he turned a year old, he lost his parents and eventually his brother. His mother died giving birth to him, while his father died fighting for the country's independence. And now two years later, he was dressed as a girl, fallen in love from someone who would never return after leaving him, and lived under servitude. I wonder…I wonder if that person who had left him behind would meet him again…once he's grown up._

"What is it?" he asked, looking up at her.

"Nothing."

"You can tell me. You've told me who I am and kept it hidden from everyone; I want to do something in return."

"I-I just thought that…this habit of putting you in a dress," Elizaveta explained, trying to find the right words. "It'll last until you're grown up." She wasn't looking at him when she spoke. "You may be young to understand now, but until you reach a certain age, you will wear nothing but dresses. Even your behaviour would be between a girl and boy: a body of a young man but with an intellect of a lady. But it's not just that…which worries me somehow."

"Then what?" The child's eyes grew wider, eager to hear more of this "odd" epiphany.

"At some point, once you're grown up, you'll stumble across a young man. He has no idea who you truly are until it's too late. You'll understand one day."

Knowing the child is too juvenile to find out, she didn't say another word. Both Feliciano and Elizaveta managed to complete the tasks within an hour.

_I have a hunch this young man you'll fall for is the one who had been missing all these years…_

_And he doesn't know _you _were that little "servant girl" he had been trying to talk to…_

* * *

"Now let's see what the master is hiding…" Elizaveta whispered. Then she carried Feliciano into her arms and ran down the corridor, rushing past the rooms.

Its door was left slightly open, letting out a thin streak of light. Out of all the rooms she had discovered, this one was always locked; to her, whatever her husband is hiding inside must have held great significance to him. Every time she passed by, she would attempt to open the door, mostly in failure. But today, this opportunity was finally permitted to her. Without a word and curiosity overwhelming her, she pushed the door and walked inside.

A lone grand piano stood at centre of the room. Huge windows revealing the fields of the countryside at sunrise were across the entrance and two chandeliers hung at both sides. From her right, the side closest to her, three bookshelves containing nothing but music scores covered the width of the wall. Still carrying the young boy in her arms, she walked along the shelves, quickly picking out a small score with one hand before walking towards the piano. Once seated, she set Feliciano beside her and opened the score to a certain piece. She examined the notes while adjusting her seat and calling him to sit beside her; she remembered her mother teaching her to play piano while she was little, yet to her it was only a very faint memory. Hoping she could still recall what she was taught, she placed her hands on the keys and began to play, looking up and down the score to the keys when needed.

Starting with a high, flat note as the driving introduction of the piece, she began with faltering uncertainty. Yet she kept going, often misreading the notes labelled as forte as a piano instead and holding the notes too long when it should short. She expressed everything in the notes she played, despite them being misplayed; it didn't matter, as long as she plays with expression, everything that had happened the past few years seemed irrelevant to her…

But then her solitude was shattered when she heard a familiar voice behind her, which sounded more of a scowl rather than curious.

"What are you doing here?"

* * *

Turning around, she found Roderich standing at the entrance, his hands crossed and his expression one of irritation and anger. She stood up and faced him. Then, looking at Feliciano, she asked the child to leave the room at that moment.

"Feli, you need to go," she told him. "Go clean the stairs, I think it's still soiled from yesterday's rendezvous." She carried him off his seat and set him down on the floor. "I'll be fine," she added. She watched him running away as she stood up.

"I'm sorry," she began, once the boy left. Her head bowed down as she spoke. "I just found the door open."

_Even trying to sound innocent isn't enough to shift the master's cold nature…_

* * *

Roderich Edelstein was working on papers in his office, to be reviewed before sending it off to His Majesty, when he heard something coming from outside. It sounded distorted and everything otherwise of how he would play. Not that it hurt his ears listening to the amateurish playing, but he knew someone was playing horribly in his private room. The room where he could express his feelings through music than by words: anger, bitterness, joy, angst, he would express them.

Standing up, he walked out and hurried to find his wife playing the piano, playing a piece he recognised by Liszt (whose nationality was the same as Elizaveta's). When he found her there, her long fingers lightly touching the white keys as she glanced back at him. Beside her was the young girl he had entrusted to Elizaveta to take care of. She was humming along; not caring about the inaccurate playing his wife was trying to play. He had to admit to himself the little lady was rather sweet, but still his family comes second under his priorities.

Duty always comes first, family is second – this was his principle. He asked her what she was doing in the room. After asking the little girl to go, she replied that it was careless of her to come here, but she saw the room open and was curious of what was inside. As the girl ran past him, she didn't look up, merely ignoring him.

He only realised it was his fault for leaving the room open.

"You were playing Liszt just now, were you?" he asked her.

"How did you know?" It was the only reply Elizaveta could manage, fearing her husband would have a fit of rage at that moment.

"I had an instinct you would recognise him," Roderich guessed, shrugging as he approached her. "It's one of his Paganini Études. The composer based all of Paganini's works for violin into piano, like a variation work made for piano. You were playing his third etude, named "_La Campanella_"."

Still expecting him to throw curses she could imagine as he walked towards her, Elizaveta backed away a few steps behind. She knew that the young man would express his anger by playing a piece, mostly Chopin, in which he would pour out his anger; but from the blank expression he was wearing, it was impossible to express. Besides the fact that he was a polyglot, trying to explain something in her mother tongue, just to escape the anger she was expecting, was pointless.

"What are you waiting for?" She heard Roderich's voice in her head, her eyes blinking back to reality as she stood in her spot. She saw him seated before the piano, yet his fingers aren't on the keys. _Was he waiting for me to take a seat?_ She wondered. _Wasn't he upset I came here? Why is he acting like this?_ Confused, she retraced her steps and slid beside her husband.

"When was the last time someone taught you to play this?" Roderich asked her.

"Long ago, when I was little," Elizaveta replied, not looking at him. She didn't look up at the piece across her or at him, but instead looked down at the floor. "My mother taught me to play, but it wasn't long until she passed away. It's nothing but a vague memory."

Roderich didn't speak for a minute as he considered his reply. "I suppose I should refresh that memory of yours, then," he replied. Then just as Elizaveta turned to face him, he smiled.

She knew he was trying to redeem himself to her, exhausted by the day's work of writing replies and suggestions on papers, but that smile held a meaning. Elizaveta had never seen him smile at all; rather she had seen him scowl, frown, and often, yet rarely, smirk...none ever cheerful came from him. She wondered if this was the first time he had smiled, after years of growing up in a family governed by rules of etiquette.

_If this is his way of trying to spend time with her…she will accept it._

"Now then." She listened to him explaining about she played and added for some corrections, or at least remember what her mother had told her. He told her to play the right hand for now to start; while she played the higher notes, he played the lower ones, adding that she is accountable for playing the tempo she wanted and making certain she keeps them constant. Measure by measure did she play the piece, breaking them down and playing at the slowest tempo. Once she finally mastered it, both switched sides: Elizaveta sat playing what Roderich had played, while he played hers. Though it was inadvertent, it took them the entire afternoon and well into the evening to finish, but it didn't matter. As both of them lifted their fingers from the keys of the piano to finish the last piece in sustenance, they sat there; smiling at one another after playing the entire score Elizaveta had chosen.

Although neither knew what was happening outside, the servants, including Feli, passed by the open room. Each of them felt somehow relieved by the melody being created. For once, the moody atmosphere of the Estate was replaced with a serene happiness. Ever since they were declared a married couple, Roderich and Elizaveta rarely ever spoke of one another. Sometimes Roderich would eat in his office rather than with his wife, who would eat in the dining hall. Elizaveta understood this, but felt miserable and sometimes agitated that he might push himself too much. However, in Roderich's case it was closely similar, only he dealt with ignorance and regret...not towards his marriage to her, but the rules he was educated throughout his life - look down towards those downtrodden as non-existent beings. When he and Elizaveta first met, he viewed her as nothing but a commoner trying to match the life of the higher class; it was the very reason his behaviour towards her was verbally taciturn. That moment, however, he saw her as something special; she was no different as a human. He didn't see her as a low aristocrat, but just a mere woman..._a cherished wife_.

As he stared into her eyes, he read those emotions hidden inside. He saw nothing but bitterness - hostility she had dealt with for the past five years, each one for the previous 1.825 days, those 60 months of bitterness - of living with a man whom she had to show loving affection...and received nothing but wounding remarks. He drew closer and closer, trying to understand her even more. _Why won't she move?_ He wondered, noticing he was now too close to her as he closed his eyes. _Is she even afraid?_ But it was too late.

He felt her lips brushing against his own. For a moment, time stopped. _What am I doing?_ He wondered. But before he could even think of an answer, he quickly opened his eyes and slid away from her.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. He didn't look at her when he finally spoke. Then he stood up and ran out of the room without looking back, hiding the fact that his eyes welled up with tears and didn't want Elizaveta to see him breaking down.

Closing the music score in a hurry, Elizaveta stood up, returned it back to the shelf, and quickly ran out of the room. She saw him turning to a corner a good distance away. Relieved she was wearing boots rather than heeled slippers, and certain she wouldn't lose his trail, she broke into a run.

"Wait!" she called out as she ran.

_What happened to him...?_

* * *

_After writing this, my brain couldn't think anymore. Crap, didn't I end my first story with a cliffhanger, too? I guess writing short stories with cliffhanger endings are now my writing specialty, huh? By the way, 1.825 means 1,825. When you multiply 365 days by five years, it's over a thousand. It's kinda switched around depending on where you're from and whether you use commas for decimal numbers, so to write 1/4 as a decimal, it's 0,25% And if you write something like a thousand in digits, it's 1.000. Weird, I know. _

_As for this story, yeah, I can't write sequels well. I'm just not that good at it. I did try uploading the sequel for "Obscurity" twice, but within a few days I took them down. I just didn't like how the story went. So again, no sequels._

_I'm planning to write my first multi-chapter story at this time, still at the developing stages. It's a lot more dramatic than "Obscurity" or this one. This time, it's multi-chapter and spans a period of thirty years. And the characters, I think four of them, would have to deal in different situations in real life at the time. One of them would have the hardest challenge out of the four; they would struggle to survive by selling themselves to other people. It's like Fantine from Les Misérables, if you put that way...T__he entire story is historical AU and it'd take forever seeing the amount of research I have to go through in making sure what I'm planning to write is accurate and not too sensitive to read. And yes, the rating will go up as time goes on._

_However, I'm already writing a draft, more of a spin-off, to what happened to Ludwig and Feliciano after they met, some two weeks later. Both will be separate stories for the sake of keeping the story itself apart. So Ludwig kinda asks Roderich for help (kinda obvious why Ludwig wouldn't ask Gilbert at all) and eventually comes into terms to himself, while Feliciano finds Elizaveta and has a similar fate. I swear it's a huge parallel for the two. Basically in the end, both of them, Feliciano and Ludwig, knew how they met wasn't an accident. (I'm very certain Hiramuya himself wrote a manga strip similar to this, in which Ludwig has this awkward feeling that he's in love with Feliciano and tries to deny this…in the end, his denial comes into a breaking point when he asks Feliciano personally about it. But since I'm only a neutral fan, I don't know if he had released it.)_

_Now some stuff related to real history:_

_- Erzébet is the Hungarian version of Elizabeth, sometimes spelled as Elizabeta or the one I'm using for this story, Elizaveta (which itself is the Russian variation of the name). Basically the former and the latter both mean the same thing. I just prefer using Elizaveta better..._

_- There are a lot of Hungarian fencers and even coaches who had competed in the Olympics under the category throughout the years...as well as Italians, British, Russians, and even Americans. As for Germans, there's probably not many, even Austrians too. Thus this explains why Elizaveta/Daniel would always beat Gilbert in a fencing duel and Elizaveta secretly teaching Feliciano the sport, adding the fact that an Italian fencer who competed in Olympic fencing won more titles and champoinships than any other fencer known in history. Even Hiramuya had stated in Italy's character profile that he's a natural at it, so maybe that's why._

_- I have an odd feeling the Holy Roman Empire began in what would've been the modern-day Germany. Even the first few kings who were crowned as the Holy Roman Emperor happened in Aachen, also part of Germany today. (Strangely enough, one of my previous teachers at school came from Germany and knew the place well.) And I think it's canon that HRE is just little Germany. The eyes, the hair, the personality...resembled perfectly to the adult one._

_- To be clear, I hated politics, not even majoring in law or political science either. Especially during the 19th century, where my history class just learned some three weeks ago (we just finished through the Second World War and having to sit through an entire hour listening to the "Axis" and "Allies" wasn't fun). Summing it up, if your land is under someone else's authority, they own everything, including the people. Feliciano grew up at the time when northern Italy still belonged to the Austrians, so his past is already complicated enough as it is. His family is under the Edelsteins' responsibility, which makes sense since his father were among those who revolted (referring to the 1848 revolution) and eventually gave way for the two Italian states to unite as one. Roderich knew about Feliciano's family, especially the father, which could be why he treated him like a servant rather than an "adopted" son._

_- "La Campanella" was part of Liszt's six really challenging etudes for piano, which was based on violin compositions by Paganini. The etude mentioned was the revised version by Liszt and was said to have removed the "impossible" playing for each piece. I'm no music major, so it'll be best if you listen to a recording of it on YT (which I do all the time)._

_One more note: Thank you for those who have reviewed my very first story, "Obscurity"! Yeah, I do read them whenever I have time and just feel like motivated to actually continue it, even if I won't end up writing the sequel at all. Just kinda throw in some little things here and there and just let the reader figure what happens next rather than the writer. __I wonder what _is _the ratio of male authors within FF to the females, but my guess it's barely a quarter of the total number of authors, so I feel like I'm the minority, being a guy myself. __A__nyway, yeah, thank you again!_


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